


Mad

by supersoakerx



Category: Paterson (2016)
Genre: Cowgirl, Cuddles, Cum Eating, Domme!Wifey, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Praise Kink, a modest glass of wine, drool, spit, sub!Paterson, toes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23104537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersoakerx/pseuds/supersoakerx
Summary: You come home angry and you bone Paterson.
Relationships: Paterson (Paterson)/Reader, Paterson (Paterson)/You, Paterson/Reader, Paterson/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35





	Mad

You storm into the living room, slamming the door behind you.

“God, damn it!” You seethe. You’re cursing, breathing hard as you throw off your bags and your coat, not caring about the noise you make or if you break anything. Marvin growls at you and you glower at him. He’s not helping. You were pissed.

“Fucking, un-be _liev_ able!” Your heart was pounding in your chest, in your throat. You were so mad, fists clenching as you tried to process the clusterfuck of a day you had, the people, the _idiots_ , the deadlines, the shitty news. _All_ of it. “Fuck!” you yell, out of sheer blinding anger. You had to calm down. Where was Pat-

“Honey?” you hear him call for you from downstairs.

Oh, thank Christ. “Up here,” you call down, your teeth clenched and jaw set, staring at Marvin, irrationally angry at how simple his life was, in contrast to how fucked your day was today.

Paterson’s footsteps thud up the stairs, like he’s taking them two at a time to get to you. The door bursts open, revealing your tall, broad husband. You whip your head around to look at him, and see his hair tucked behind his ear on one side, white shirt untucked over his jeans, an open button-down shirt over the top of that. His eyebrows are raised, silently questioning you, concerned. He closes the door softly, his movements slow. “Sweetheart,” he starts, looking around at how you’ve thrown your shit everywhere, how your quick, shallow breaths make your chest rise and fall, and and how you ball your hands into fists to try to stop them from shaking. His tongue darts out to wet his lip for half a second, before he bites his bottom lip. His brow furrows. He’s worried abou-

Wait. He bites his plush, pink bottom lip?

Fuck.

You stride over to him, on him in a heartbeat. You push your body flush against him, backing him into the wall. Your hands fly up to grab either side of his face and pull him down into a deep and blistering kiss, your mouth rough on him. You grind your hips into him, slide your fingers around the base of his skull and grip his silky soft hair, pulling just enough to make him gasp. You suck on his bottom lip, he hums, and then you hold it between your teeth, biting his lip, pulling away just a little with his lip between your teeth.

Marvin barks, growls, barks again. It’s loud and it shatters the little cocoon you were making around yourselves. You both jumping a little. “Jesus, Marvin, really?” you spit the words out, full of contempt.

Paterson ‘s fingers graze your chin, he turns you back to face him. “He’s ok, honey. It’s alright, now, what hap-“

“No.” You grip his wrist firmly, and shove it back against the wall, pinning it there. His hand lands with a small thud.

Something flashes in his face, his eyes squint for just a moment. He closes his mouth and takes a deep breath. You feel him against your belly, half-hard and getting harder in his jeans.

You squeeze his wrist and bring your other hand up to push against his sternum, pushing him into the wall some more. You lean up and in to his face, on your tiptoes, and you growl your words. “Bedroom. Now.” You lick a quick stripe up the middle of his lips and they part for you in a gasp, “You know how I want you. You have one minute.”

You’re off him in an instant, stalking towards the kitchen. You hear Paterson’s hurried footsteps as he scrambles to the bedroom, rushes to get ready for you the way you like.

You grab a wine glass, open the fridge, and pour yourself a small drink of your favourite vintage. You take a small sip, the cool liquid warming and soothing you. You take a few deep and steadying breaths, trying to collect yourself. Paterson would be ready for you now.

You make your way to the bedroom slowly, glass in hand, heels clacking on the kitchen tiles.

In the bedroom, Paterson tenses when he hears you coming. His heartbeat ticks up. His fingers flex. He runs through what he needed to do to get ready for you, making sure he didn’t forget anything. He’d be punished if he did. His cock pulsed at the thought.

Your fingers turn the handle, opening your bedroom door and you step inside slowly. You glance at Paterson, huffing a short grunt of approval when you see him. He’s pulled the chair away from the wall, placed it a few feet from the bed, facing it. As he should. He perches on it, back straight, feet flat on the floor, palms gripping the wooden legs at the back of the chair. Beautiful. His head is bowed ever so slightly, and his black trunks do nothing to hide his cock, long, thick, and hard as stone. They’re all he’s wearing. Good, it’s just the way you want him. And he knows it.

You close the door behind you, it latches with a click.

Paterson lets out a breath through his nose: he didn’t know he was holding it. He’s so happy you’re pleased. His stomach tenses and it makes his dick twitch.

You chuckle darkly, walking over and sitting down on the bed, facing him. You take another sip from your glass, humming appreciatively at the smooth sweetness as it slides down your throat. “Look at you,” you tsk. “You’ve gone and got your dick all hard, haven’t you, baby?”

He nods. You wait. A quiet, low “yes” leaves his mouth.

“Did you touch it?” Your voice is low, dark. You plant one of your heeled feet on the floor, and bring your other leg up, toes pointed, perching your shoe on the seat of the chair between his legs.

“No!” he exclaims, forgetting himself and looking up at you, eyes wide with a hint of panic, before quickly casting his eyes back down to the floor. “No, h-honey, I didn’t.”

“But you want to?”

He huffs a breath. His eyes squeeze shut, and he shifts his hips a little, fingers flexing on the wooden chair legs. He’s restless. Good.

You lift your leg, point your toes again, and run the hard, flat bottom of your high heels along his cock. He shivers, his nipples hardening, and shifts his hips again.

You sigh. “Baby, I’ve had a shit of a day,” you run your shoe back and forth along his length, and he’s breathing hard. “Now I come home, your dick is hard, so hard I think you’re dripping a little bit, would I be right, honey?” He purses his lips and nods, and you tsk at him again, “and now you won’t even answer me? Hm?” You push the flat of your shoe into his cock, and he tries to stifle a whimper. Tries.

It’s a beautiful, pathetic sound. “God you’re so needy aren’t you.” It’s not a question. “Even squashing your cock has you whining.” You take another sip of wine and gently release the pressure you’re putting on his cock, and he relaxes, pecs and thighs flexing. You sigh again, feigning disinterest, putting your foot back on the seat of the chair. “Take off my shoe, Paterson.”

He obliges, taking hold of the back of your ankle gingerly, delicately. His fingers are so smooth and hot on your skin. He slips your shoe off with his other hand, and sets it down gently on the floor next to his chair.

He’s starting down at your foot, at your red nails that he lovingly painted for you two nights ago. He’d offered, and you let him, and he’d eaten you out when he was done to say thank you.

“Good, baby.” You take another sip. You were almost finished. Almost ready. “Suck on my toes.”

“Mm,” he groans at your instruction, his hand sliding up to grip your calf, and his other wrapped around the arch of your foot, holding your foot in place. He leans down and wraps his pretty pink lips around your big toe and sucks, licking at the tip of your toe where it lights up your nerves.

You gasp. This was a new thing you hadn’t done before, but Paterson was sending pleasure sparking through your core. Like he just knew what to do. But you couldn’t let on how turned on you were. Not yet.

He pulled off and looked up at you, big beautiful puppy dog eyes shining. You cock an eyebrow at him. “You stopped because?”

He takes a breath to steady himself. “C-can I. Can I, your other foot? Can I take…” he trails off. He licks his lips, pleading with you with his eyes.

“No. Not this time.” His head droops a little. It’s ok, he thinks, not this time, but you’ll let him do it another time. He knows you will. He looks back to you, heart thudding in his chest when he hears you say, “Stand up, baby.”

He rises from the chair immediately, accidentally bumping the chair out from under him a little, and sets your foot down on the floor gently before he stands to his full height. His head is tilted so he can look down at you, where you sit on the bed in your pretty work dress, the one you wear for big meetings. You’re so pretty, he thinks, and his cock jumps.

You finish off your drink and set the glass on your bedside table, kicking off your other heel, and you settle yourself on the bed and spread your legs. Your dress rides up, and Paterson forgets to breathe for a second.

“Take them off.” You nod your head in the direction of his crotch, just about at your eye level. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and yanks down quickly. “Nuh-uh!” You stop him. He swallows. “Slowly.” He blinks a few times, before moving the elastic down his hips glacially slow.

“Better, baby, good,” you purr. You pull your legs up and plant both feet on the bed. “Make sure you keep your eyes on me, ok?”

He nods. You lean back on one hand, your other hand resting on your knee. You trail your hand down your thigh, slowly, and rest your fingers on your clothed mound. Paterson’s eyes flick from your hand to your face and back again, slowly dragging his trunks down.

When his dick finally springs free of his trunks, you take one finger and slowly, softly, run it along your covered pussy, up and down your slit.

Paterson’s eyes go wide as his breath catches in his throat. Unthinking, his hand makes its way to grip his cock.

“No, baby,” you stop him. He can get needier than this. He will, you’ll make him. He makes a hurt noise in the back of his throat and he frowns, clenching and unclenching his hands in tight fists. “What’s wrong?” you pout, “You don’t wanna watch me?”

You roll your hips onto your hand and his eyes light up. Would you let him see you like this? Would you let him watch you make yourself cum?

“Hmm, I think you _do_ wanna watch me, baby, am I right?”

He nods. A lot, and quickly, hair falling into his face.

Even though you’re sitting down on the bed, and your tall, broad husband is standing over you, drilling into you with his eyes, he wouldn’t dare move. He wouldn’t even consider leaning down to kiss you or eat you out or, Heaven forbid, fuck you without you telling him he could. Not in times like this, no. Never in times like this.

Instead, he stands stock still, his cock extending out from his body, thick and long and already in need, while you let him watch you pleasure yourself. He feels another pulse through his hard cock.

“Yeah, you do, of course you do,” your voice is soft and low and breathy, and you slip a finger inside your panties and throw your head back, exaggerating a moan. Paterson watches your every movement, and he gasps when you moan.

Tilting your head forward to face him, your run your finger up and down your slit, feeling the wetness starting to gather there. You tease him, drawing out your vowels as you say, just above a whisper, “mmm, baby, I’m so wet.”

Paterson makes a little whine in the back of his throat. He licks his lips and his mouth hangs open, just watching you, mesmerised. His hands are balled into fists. It’s taking everything in him to resist what he wants to do, but he knows you’ll make him feel good, you’ll make it all better soon.

Paterson is hypnotised by the way your finger moves inside your panties, the way he’s not able to see everything. When you see his eyes following your finger up and down, you take a slow, lazy stroke up, and rub a light, tight circle around your clit, sighing.

“Hhhmmmm,” he groans. You can see a little pearl of cum at the tip of his dick.

You take your finger down to your entrance and ease it into your tight heat, letting out a short, breathy groan, and Paterson’s eyes go wide again. “Yeah, I know, baby,” you coo at him, “you wish this was you, don’t you, Pat?”

If it was hurting him not to touch you, it was killing him that he couldn’t see you, killing him in the most exquisite way. And he did, he did wish it was him, so he nods and hums in agreement.

“I didn’t hear you, baby,” you were just teasing him now—and yourself, really. Only one of your own fingers after being fingered and fucked by Pat regularly, well, it was just torture.

Your finger starts to make the softest little squelching sounds and when Paterson hears it, he lets out a big sigh, it looks like his whole body is vibrating.

“I, wish it was me in your p-pretty pussy.” His voice is shaky, and then, he gets a flare of boldness. “M-my dick is bigger than all your fingers.” His chest is rising and falling in quick, tight breaths.

You quirk your brow at him. “Is it that _big_ , baby?” You exaggerate the word as you slip a second finger inside yourself.

His tongue licks at his bottom lip and he nods.

“Is it really? Tell me, baby.”

“I-I’ve got a big dick and I can sh-show you. I can show you how I w-wanna fffuck you with it.”

You let his words hang in the air for a few moments, the only sounds are Paterson’s quiet pants and the wet noises from your slicked up pussy, and you say, “That’s what you’re good for, isn’t it baby?”

His lower lip and chin tremble a little. “Mmf-fuck my wife with my b-big cock.” His hands are squeezed so tight into fists, his knuckles are white.

You slip your fingers out of yourself with a slick wet sound, and gaze at them, covered in your slick, as if considering what to do with them. Then you flick your eyes up to Paterson, who is licking his big pink lips again, gawping at your hand like he wants to eat it.

You wipe your fingers on the bedspread beside you and he whines a small little “no!”, his whole body lurching forward.

 _Shit_ , he curses, internally. _That was an accident. Maybe you hadn’t-_

“What did you say?” You’re glaring at him now, fake anger flashing in your features.

“I… I,” he stammers, eyes going wide.

You get up off the bed then, hurl yourself to standing, trying to get up in his face as much as your shorter stature can allow. “Don’t bullshit me, Paterson. ‘No’, Christ, what do you think you’ve done to deserve that, hm?”, you gesture to the wet patch on the bed where you cleaned your fingers off.

“Nnothing.” His chin quivers again.

“That’s right, you’ve done nothing, except tell me what a big dick you supposedly have.” You make yourself sound unimpressed, bored and you cross your arms in front of you. “Sit.”

He staggers back immediately and lands in the chair, his hands resting on his thighs. You look down at him now, and fix your face into a look of displeasure.

“Hands on the back legs, Jesus, did you forget?” You sound irritated at him, annoyed at his forgetfulness. “Stick your cock out for me.”

Paterson shifts himself forward on the seat, spreads his legs a little wider and tilts his hips. His thick length juts out from his body, and he looks up at you with big brown eyes, hoping, pleading with you that this is ok, that you’re happy with this, that he’s done well.

You soften your features, when he gives you that look. That adorable fucking face.

You take a step toward him and place your hand on the side of his face. Your thumb traces softly back and forth over his cheekbone, and his eyes flutter. “Good, baby,” you say, and he opens his eyes and smiles at you with them. “Drool onto your dick.” His face falls. He’s startled.

You take a few steps back. “I know how hard you are, baby, I know it hurts, right?”

“Yess,” he nods, “it hurts.” He breathes the words out.

You make a little pout, almost in mocking. “Tsk, poor baby with his sore little dick,” you get the reaction you want from him immediately, his nostrils flaring and his cheeks blushing pink, “drool onto your cock and I’ll let you touch it.”

He glances down, sees his hard cock poking out from himself, wonders if he’ll be able to aim-

“You’re a big boy, you can touch your own cock, can’t you?” Your voice breaks him out of his reverie, and he feels his hard length pulse with need.

“Y-yes, I can touch-ch it.” He swallows thickly.

“Well then?” You sit yourself down on the bed, waiting.

Paterson watches you sit and then gazes down at his cock again. He feels dirty as he gathers spit in his mouth, preparing to drip it onto himself. Or at least, try to.

The first dribble doesn’t have enough force in it, he’s too shy with it, and it lands on his chest, slowly trailing down his sternum and over the little rolls of his belly.

You tisk at him, and he flicks his gaze up to you. You look unimpressed. He knows he has to try again if he’s going to get _any_ relief.

He glances back down and tries again, and this time, a wet little blob lands just on his cock, but to the side. His dick twitches upwards with the feel of it, and some of his drool drips to the floor. He huffs a sigh, equal parts pleased and frustrated.

“Better, baby. Almost there.” His eyes flick up to you when he hears your voice. Warmth radiates throughout his body from his chest when he sees the little smile you give him. “Go on.”

Paterson feels emboldened by your encouragement. He gets a big glob of drool ready to go, steadies himself, and drips it onto his cock slowly.

It lands perfectly, and his face shoots up to yours with the biggest, proudest smile.

“Good, baby! Look at that!” You soften your voice and say, “Go on and stroke it now, baby, big long ones for me, get your cock nice and wet.”

Paterson takes a shuddering breath and grips his hard length, covered in his own drool. He strokes up, down, up, down, smearing all the slick all over himself. The sound is obscene and he closes his eyes, tips his head back, and releases a soft, high moan for you.

He’s beautiful, but not what you’re going for right now. “Eyes on me,” you say.

He brings his head forward again and stares into your eyes. He’s biting his bottom lip and his eyebrows are pulled together while he firmly pumps his slicked up cock.

You start to take off your clothes. You unzip your dress and lift it up and off over your head, exposing your bra, which he hasn’t seen yet this evening, and your panties, which he knows your wetness has seeped through. The sight of you makes him groan.

His eyes are flitting all over your face and your body when you reach around to unclasp your bra. You pull the straps down, making a slow and exaggerated show of it, and he almost forgets about his dick, his mouth hanging open while he gawks at you.

“Don’t stop, Paterson.” You say, seeing him slow almost to a stop at the sight of your bare breasts. You step over to him, and bring your hands up to massage over your breasts, right in his face. He sees your fingers dance over the soft flesh of your tits and your tight, pert nipples, and he can’t stop the needy moan you pull from him. “You want these, baby?”

You think he moans out a ‘yes,’ but it was barely audible.

“I can’t hear you.” You roll your nipples between your thumb and forefinger and he bucks his dick into his hand, his hips rising off the chair. You tisk at him. “Where are your manners?”

Paterson has to slow down for this next part, or he’ll talk himself to an orgasm he does _not_ want to have yet. He slows the hand working over his cock and says, “Please, please give me your… please stuff my mouth with your b-beautiful tits—I, I want to feel your n-nipples on my tongue, please. Please.”

God, he was so good for you. With one hand, you grip one of your breasts, almost holding it out for him, and with the other, you grasp the soft, silky hair at the nape of his neck. “Open your mouth,” you tell him.

Paterson licks his lips and lets his mouth drop open in an “o”.

“Good, baby,” you coo at him, as you lean and guide your breast to his mouth, letting your nipple rest on his tongue. Paterson lets another moan escape from the back of his throat and his eyes flutter shut. You tug at his hair.

He snaps his eyes back open and latches on to your breast, pushing his face into your flesh and trying to fit more and more of your flesh into his mouth. You can feel him slobbering all over your breast, licking at your skin, your areola, your nipple. He’s huffing little moans as he tries to devour you.

You can’t hear the sounds of Paterson stroking himself anymore, and you look down to find him giving little, erratic tugs to the top half of his dick, right over the swollen head. In some places, he wasn’t shiny with spit anymore.

You tug at his hair again he pulls off your breast with a pop. He’s looking up at you with black, glazed over eyes.

“Give me your hand,” you say. Paterson looks at you blankly. Out of your periphery you see his hand stop moving, but he doesn’t bring it up to you. You grip his chin now, anchoring him tight, your other hand still clutching his hair. “Give me. Your _hand_.” You make your voice cold.

He reaches his hand up to you, “closer,” you say, and he brings it right to your face, palm up. You spit into his hand, and say, “do not stop fucking your fist until I tell you to, understand?”

Paterson hums a groan and immediately starts working his hard dick again. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can take, and you haven’t even really started.

What’s worse—or better—he thinks he might pass out when he sees you slip off your panties, sit back on the bed, spread your legs, and stroke up and down your folds.

“Hhh-fuck!” He huffs and mutters, under his breath, his hips bucking again, his eyes trained on your core.

You trail your fingers up and down over yourself, giving light little circles to your clit, and teasing the entrance to your tight, wet heat.

Paterson is trying to pump himself in time with your languid motions. He’s almost panting, and with it, his chest rising and falling quickly.

You dip two fingers into yourself and moan, staring straight at him.

“Shhhit!” Paterson murmurs, this time his bucking hips and sending the chair back a little. His gaze flicks between your pussy and your face. He doesn’t know where to look, but the jolt of pleasure he just felt nearly knocked him off his seat.

You pump your fingers in and out of yourself a few times, and relish the slick sounds coming from your soaked pussy and Paterson’s drool covered cock. You’re both breathing heavily.

When you feel like you’ve got your two fingers all slicked up, you slip your fingers out and hold them up to your face, pretending to examine them. Before, you denied him, and this time you almost see Paterson’s ears prick up. He sits up straighter in his chair, grips his dick tighter, slower, trying to put on a good show for you. He wants to impress you. He wants to get to taste you, so badly.

You slip off the bed and stalk over to him. You hold your two fingers out to him, letting him inhale your scent, but nothing more. “What do you want?” you ask him, and he licks his lips again.

“Please, let me taste,” he cuts himself off with a sigh, his hand still working over his dick, “let me lick them clean.” He’s open-mouthed panting at you now, little puffs of air feeling cold on your wet fingers.

You shove your two fingers into his mouth, sliding across his tongue and he _groans_ , really groans, from deep in his chest. His lips close around your fingers and he sucks, the pressure making the nerves in your fingertips tingle.

Paterson’s tongue licks along and between your fingers, lapping up every drop of your slick like your cum is the first thing he’s eaten in days.

You check and see that his hand is pumping himself more erratically. He’s trying to be good, with big long tight slow strokes, but he’s getting too excited, too distracted.

You’ve got to help him here. “Don’t you cum, baby,” you say, “don’t you fucking cum, not yet baby, don’t do it.” Paterson groans around your fingers, squeezes his cock hard at the base, his hand uncomfortably tight to stave it off, and he wishes, he wishes so much you would stop saying the word “cum”, because when it falls from your lips, it’s all he wants to do. He wants to shoot his cum all over you, or all over himself, he wants to show it all to you, his big thick load, wants to make you proud of him for it, and for his big fat dick. And he knows you know it, too. “Don’t you dare cum all over your fist when I’m standing _right_ here, Paterson.” You yank your fingers out of his mouth and he moans a pathetic little sound.

Paterson shuts his eyes tight, squeezes every muscle in his body, strangles his dick in his hand. He’s breathing hard through his nose.

You take a step back and see a dribble of cum slipping out of him from the tip of his dick. You tisk at him, and say, “look at you, your dick’s leaking. Drooling cum all over the place.”

Paterson’s lip is trembling. He’s edged himself like three times now and he just can’t bear it. He loves it too much, when you treat him like this. It gets him so hot and hard and ready to blow his load instantly. He looks up at you with what he hopes is his most innocent, pleading face. Please, please would you let him cum now, soon? He’s been so _good_.

“Get up on the bed. Lay on your back.”

He scrambles up off the chair and onto the bed, settling himself back against the pillows, his long body laying out before you.

You admire him, his messy hair, his flushed cheeks and neck and chest, his plush lips, his broad chest and plains of his belly. But then, there’s his long, thick cock, flushed an angry red, desperately hard and aching. You smile when you recall how it’s been covered in the saliva from both of you as well as all the cum he leaked while you teased him. So dirty.

“What a mess you made, baby. My big husband is just a nasty little man, isn’t he?”

Paterson sees your smile and hears your words and one corner of his mouth ticks up. His eyes are blazing when he says, bold again, “nnasty but with a big cock.” He bites his bottom lip.

That’s too cheeky for your liking.

You crawl up onto the bed and lean over him, grabbing his chin in one hand and supporting yourself with the other, “oh yeah? You gonna prove it to me, then?”

Paterson starts to nod and you grip his chin tighter and nod his head for him, cooing patronisingly “yeah, baby’s gonna prove it to me, won’t he? Show me his big dick? Yeah, of _course_ he will.”

He blushes at this, and you don’t see it but his dick twitches where it rests against his belly.

Letting go of his face, you manoeuvre yourself to straddle him, and Paterson tries to steady his breathing. He knows he’s about to be balls deep inside you and he’s begging anyone who will listen that he doesn’t blow his load right then and there, the very second you sit all the way down on him.

You hover over him, gripping his dick at the base to stand him up and line him up. The only warning you give him is when you say. “time to show me how big your cock is, baby,” and then you’re sinking down onto him.

The groan that tears through Paterson sounds like equal parts heaven and hell. He’s squeezing every single one of his core muscles, his chest heaving with the effort of controlling his breathing.

When you’re fully sitting down on him, you let his cock stretch you. He’s filling out your tight hole, the walls of your pussy fluttering around him. You let out a nice big sigh, contented, and the action makes you clench around him.

Paterson groans from it, feeling you squeeze him, he loves when you do that, but he’s frustrated. Not at you, but at himself. He hates how weak he is for you, he wishes he wasn’t so desperate to cum, so about to burst when all you’d done is spat on his dick and put it inside you.

He hates it, but he loves it too. He tries to tell you.

You see his mouth open and close, trying to form words. He clenches his hands in the sheets. “What, baby?” you ask, as you rock forward on him once.

“Hhhnnn-no, no, I can’t, you f-feel,” he pants, catching his breath, but just as he does, just as you let him, you clench up around him again, teasing.

Paterson groans, throwing his head back against the pillows, giving you a lovely view of the long line of his neck and his bobbing Adam’s apple. While he’s there he pushes out all his words, they leave his mouth in one big breath, “I could cum just from you squeezing me (Y/N) please I don’t want to cum yet.”

His words make your walls involuntarily tighten on him again. He strangles a groan and chants in low little whispers, “please please please.”

“Look at me.” Your voice is stern. Instantly Paterson tilts his head forward and flicks his gaze to you. He sees you above him, on him, your beautiful body sitting proud, your legs encasing his. He whimpers.

“What makes you think this is about what you want?” His expression falters. It doesn’t matter that you also don’t want him to cum yet: that’s not what this is about. He can’t be making demands like that. Not in moments like this.

“Are you going to cum, Paterson?” You ask, almost clinically. He nods, looking guilty, and disappointed. You tisk at him. “Do I need to get the ring?” Paterson’ eyes flare wide and then he snaps them shut, counting his breaths to remain focused. You’d surprised him with that, and the thought of it almost had him losing it all over again. He nods in answer. “Jesus,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and feigning disappointment. You hoist yourself up off him, and he groans, grabbing tight at his dick the second you’re off him.

You pad over to the ornate little box you keep in your bedroom, filled with most of your toys. The others, the ones you use all the time, are kept close in your bedside tables. But you wanted the ring, the non-vibrating one especially. You have to make him last until you cum all over him and ride him into oblivion.

Finding your prize, you saunter back over to him. “Put this on, and hurry up,” you thrust your hand out to him. He grabs the ring and puts it on, sighing, while you mutter, “already kept me fucking waiting.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pants, securing the ring and laying his head back on the pillows, his gorgeous hair fanning out.

“Will you be good for me now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, one hand on your hip.

“Yes, yes, I promise.” He’s looking at you so earnestly now, you believe him.

You climb up onto the bed, position your hips over his again. “Line yourself up,” you spit the words out impatiently, with an edge, as if he should’ve known to do this already.

He holds his dick so it stands up straight for you, and you drop yourself down onto him, again.

“Aahh, fuck,” you groan, at the same time as he moans, “mmmm, shhhit.”

Testing him, you squeeze his cock with your pussy walls and he lets out a deep sigh. He pulls his lips between his teeth, and breathes through his nose.

You raise an eyebrow at him, silently asking if he’s ready, as you settle one hand on his sternum and the other on the bed beside his ribs. Paterson fists the sheets again, readying himself. He nods.

And you _fuck_ him.

Immediately you’re bouncing up and down on him, leveraging yourself with his body to rise and fall onto his cock. Paterson’s moans are deep and filthy and almost constant. The pressure at the base of his cock is making everything feel ten times more intense.

Your breasts are bouncing almost in his face, and he tries to catch one in his mouth. His hands fly up to grab and squeeze and knead your ass cheeks.

It all feels amazing, but that’s not what this is. He’s forgetting himself.

Really, Paterson knows he probably shouldn’t be doing this right now. Not at times like this. But he can’t help it. His skin feels hot and tingly, every nerve ending feels alight, his toes are curling and the pleasure radiating through his body is making him lose all sense.

You move your hand from the bed and grab his throat, pushing him back down onto the bed. “Get, your hands, off me,” you pant as you impale yourself on him, “your job, is to watch me, get myself off on you,” you squeeze his throat, just once and then release, feeling the cartilage rub up against your palm, “and not fucking cum, do you understand, little man?”

You were sliding on him so easily, his cock so slicked up with your arousal. You’re pretty sure you felt Pat’s dick throb inside you at your words. He doesn’t answer, not really, he just whines.

You slow your hips and lift yourself all the way up so just his tip is inside you, then slide slowly back down, so you’re sitting on him again, “do,” you do it again, “you,” you do it _again_ , “under-“, again, “stand?”

“Yes, yes, please,” he whimpers, you feel the words leaving his throat, and you release your hold on him, putting both hands on his chest and starting to rock back and forth on him, grinding your clit against his pubic bone.

“Please what, hm?” The angle you’re grinding on him and the thickness of his cock inside you has you almost shaking on top of him, but you have to stay in control, for yourself as much as for Paterson. He needs this too, just as much as you do. Little tremors run through your thighs and your nails dig in to his chest, and Paterson groans at that.

“P-please,” he gasps, “use me as a ff-fuck toy,” his hands are up gripping the pillows behind his head, “g-get off on my dick, puh-please, cum with me in-inside you, please let me feel it, cum all over me, please.” His lips are bitten red and his eyebrows are all pinched up and pulled together.

You hum a sigh, “mm, you beg so pretty, baby.” You are both hanging on by a thread, and each of you know it. You thought about cuffing him, or blindfolding him, or tying his hands behind his back, but all that can wait for another time. For now, both of you needed release. “Don’t cum until I tell you you can, uuhh-understand?” You were losing command of your voice, words threatening to spill into moans as his cock rubbed against your g-spot. “You’re gonna feel me cum and you’re gonna take it, Pat.”

“Yes yes yes yes,” he’s choking it out, chanting, almost praying, eyes glazed over and mouth hanging open. He seems far away, not listening, but he also seems like the only thing he knows is _you_. And he’s not listening. Not really. Paterson feels totally overcome by what you’re doing to him, so wrapped up in the pleasure you’re letting him have, all his senses are trained on you.

“Tell me,” you were so close now, your clit grinding against him deliciously while you fucked yourself with his cock. You were certain the next words out of his mouth would send you over the edge, you just had to hold on.

“I won’t, I won’t,” he stammers out, “I won’t c-cuuhhm until you tell me, I’ll take it, I can take it, let me feel you cum, I can t-take it, _please_.” His voice is so puffed and high and desperate and you just, you just…

One, two, three more bounces and you sit down on him _hard_ as your orgasm rips through you, and you’re coming and shaking and screaming and your nails dig in to Paterson’s chest as you squeeze and clench and strangle his thick cock, somehow even thicker than before, with the convulsions of your tight, wet heat.

Paterson groans, a deep, dark, animalistic thing, he arches up off the bed, fisting the sheets and holding himself back on his forearms as you rock and shudder above him. He can’t help but buck himself up into you, just the tiniest shallowest thrusts as he moans in time with the spasms of your cunt.

Soon your screams, turn to moans, turn to soft sighs as you catch your breath. You’d closed your eyes, and you open them to find Paterson staring at you with such a needy and devoted plea etched on his face that you can’t deny him. You can’t edge him, can’t say no. Not again.

Not when he’s looking at you with big brown eyes, bloodshot and filled up with tears, ready to spill onto his cheeks all hot and desperate at any moment.

You lean forward and lick at the little half-moons your nails left in the soft flesh of his pecs. Your hot wet tongue soothes him, especially when you blow a soft, gentle, cooling ribbons of air over his skin, and the shift of your hips drags your puffy wet cunt over his cock. The three sensations have him reeling. “I can’t, (Y/N), I can’t, please, please,” he’s whispering it now, like you might vanish any moment now, like he might die soon after.

You shove two fingers into his mouth and hush him, gently. “Shh, sh, sh, stop whining, baby.” He immediately wraps his lips and tongue around your fingers, sucking and humming his moans. “You did so good for me, baby. You did so well, such a big hard cock, you felt amazing, baby.” His eyebrows pull up at that while his mouth is stuffed with your fingers, and his eyes go wide, and sparkly, his whole face lighting up as if to say ‘did I? Did I really? Did I make you feel good? Were you, are you, proud of me?’

You slide your fingers out of his mouth and rest them on his bottom lip. You lean in closer and he stifles another moan. “I’m so proud of you, baby, you are so good to me.”

Paterson’s heart bursts. His whole body feels flooded with warmth and light and the deepest, purest connection he’s ever felt with anyone else in the whole world. He cracks a big toothy smile and a single, tiny tear slips out of one of his eyes.

You collect it with your thumb and suck it into your mouth, slowly and suggestively. His face scrunches up as if he’s confused, but you know it’s just because his brain can’t process what you just did to his dick by sucking on your own thumb.

“Now, baby,” you sit up on him again, trailing the tips of your fingers down his sweaty chest and stomach, “I’m going to fuck you until you cum and then you’re gonna eat it out of my pussy, understand?”

Paterson’s mouth falls open again, and he nods. “B-both?”

You tilt your head to the side and raise an eyebrow at him, questioning.

Pat continues. “I. You. You’re gonna let me cum and then let me lick you out after?”

You nod at him. His chest heaves a shaky sigh and he licks his lips. “You ready?” you ask, raising yourself up on him, until only the head of his cock is nestled inside you. Paterson nods, small quick tilts of his head. He clutches at some more of the sheets, his palms too sweaty. He’s so fucking ready for this.

You drop your hips down onto him suddenly and set a brutal pace. As fast as you can manage, you ride him, bucking and rocking your hips and dragging pussy over his thick cock, skewering yourself on him harder and harder, sucking him up into your pussy over and over.

Paterson can’t holding back, he’s moaning and sobbing like a little whore, his features all scrunched up in bliss, the veins and muscles in his neck and throat pushing against his red flushed skin with the force of his cries. He tries to talk but all that comes out is “fuck!” and “yes!” and “please!” and “fuck!” again.

 _This is how she does it_ , he thinks, the only coherent thoughts in his pleasure-fogged mind. _This is how she fucks me fucking dumb._

“I know, I know,” you pant, huffing out words as you put all your energy into fucking the life out of Pat, “you want to cum, don’t you, you want to shoot your, cum inside of me, don’t you baby, fill my pussy up, huh, right baby?”

Paterson is right on the edge, he’s dangling off of it, pleasure and pressure building and burning in his belly, his back, his fingers and toes, his throbbing cock.

You know he’s close, he’s barely hanging on, about to lose his mind. So you get him there. You give him this. “Cum, Paterson, cum for me baby, do it now.”

He snaps bow tight for half a second, then his arms fly out and grab you, clutch your hips, holding you down on to him, encasing his cock inside you. His cum pours out of him, and he’s yelping and crying and groaning long, drawn out, pained moans of pleasure with each spurt of hot cum that leaves the tip of his cock. You can almost feel every time his dick twitches as he shoots ropes deep inside you.

He’s gasping for air and you hush him, coo to him. “Oh, baby, you did so good. So good, Pat. So well, baby.” Paterson’s breathing slows, and the corners of his mouth pull up in a smile. You glance over your shoulder and let him know he can take off the cock ring now, and he does with a sigh. “You’re gonna clean me up now, baby, clean up all the mess your big cock made.”

Paterson looks away for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips and a new bloom of pink in his cheeks. He mumbles something, but he’s looking away and you don’t catch it.

“Say again, baby?”

He turns back to you, biting his bottom lip, and then, “I said I, I think I made a lot of cum for you.” He licks his lips, remembering what you said before. What he was secretly, in the depths of his soul, hoping he could do next. Dirty man, your husband.

“Mm, I think you did too, baby. Get down here and eat it for me, eat it all up.”

Together you manoeuvre yourselves. Pat shimmies down the bed a little and you shift up the bed a little until your drenched pussy hovers over his face. Some drops spilled out of you onto his belly as you both moved, but no matter, you can get it later. For now, you’ve just had an idea, and you know he’ll fucking love it.

“Open your mouth, baby, let me drip onto your tongue.”

Pat’s reaction is immediate. He looses a desperate grunting moan as he opens his mouth wide, holds his tongue down over his chin and cranes his neck up to get closer to your core.

“Good, baby,” you encourage him, and his eyes glint with delight. “You need it, don’t you?” You’re just teasing him now.

Paterson nods his head with his mouth open wide and makes a garbled little “aaahhmm” sound from his throat.

“Yes you do,” you croon at him, as you contract your walls around nothing, squeezing and releasing your muscles to try to push your combined cum out of your pussy and into his mouth, “you’re so hungry for it, baby.” You grab his arms and hold his hands to your ass cheeks, letting him grope and squeeze your flesh. As he’s kneading your ass, your pussy drools some messy slick onto his waiting tongue and lips, and instantly Pat moans and swallows it down and opens his mouth up wide again, eager for more.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” you say. You couldn’t stop that one, it just slipped out of your mouth as you gazed at your totally debauched husband beneath you, swallowing his cum as it drips out of your pussy like a leaky tap. “Go on, I know you want to get your face all up in there,” you motion to your centre and Pat’s eyes widen for a moment, then he’s on you immediately, ferociously.

He pulls you closer by the flesh of your ass cheeks and devours your pussy. He licks and laps at your folds, slurping down your combined wet mess. He’s making breathy little grunts as he slips his tongue inside of your puffy red lips and licks up his cum like a cat lapping up water. He’s breathing and moaning right into the folds of your pussy and the sounds of his thick swallows and sighs are making you blush.

When he’s done, he rests his head back onto the bed and his lips and chin are all shiny with slick. You’re both feeling little twinkles of arousal shimmer through you, from what you’ve just done. “Rest first, ok baby?” you ask him. You both needed it before even considering another round, as much as you want to.

He nods. “Ok, honey.”

You move yourselves around the bed so that you’re laying flat on your back, stretching your legs out, and Pat’s resting his head on your chest, one leg between the both of yours, snuggling over top of you and into your side. His fingertips trace up and down your belly.

After a few quiet moments, he says, “I love how you, how we fuck when you’re mad. I love how you fuck me when you’re angry. Do you think that’s messed up, honey?”

“Well I guess… do you feel messed up when we do it, Pat?”

“No! No. No I feel. I feel like, you give me your everything. You give it all to me and you let me take from you and I. It feels incredible. You feel incredible… you make me feel like I’m not even on Earth anymore,” his voice gets quieter, but he quickly pokes his head up to you, “but, in a good way.” He smiles a little smile, crinkling his eyes, and plants a soft peck to the flesh of your breast, almost too close to your nipple, all your nerves still sensitive. His kiss is sweet and soft and gentle, and at the same time a little bit teasing, almost naughty, almost too much. It’s so _him_.

“Well, next time I’m pissed off I’ll be home sooner, baby,” you say, running a hand through his hair, fingertips running along his scalp. You hear him purr, deep and gravely, and he slinks back down into you again, nestling his face into your chest, closing his eyes as he listens to your heartbeat. He really, truly, hopes you mean that.

He knows you do.


End file.
